The Soul Thief
by high.fiving.jesus
Summary: Something screams at you, something inside falls apart. But you do it anyway, because you know you can't stop it or prevent it from happening.
1. Prologue

**-Prologue**

**July 11, 2020**

_**Camp Half-Blood**_**:  
****Half-Blood Hill**

I blinked. For one moment, I was back at camp. The brilliant black's vastness dared the campers to come alive and run through the woods. Well, to me it did. To others it was just a terrifying, starless sky with little to offer but a small crescent moon that hid behind a fluffy grey cloud.

Tonight seemed endless and vain as the sun just refused to shine again. I prayed to Apollo that he would be his cocky self and just knock Artemis from the sky. Just this one night. I was begging. But it didn't happen. Tonight was the night, the deadline, the end of the road. This would be her last night. I had done everything to stall it, to keep it from happening, but I couldn't delay the inevitable. She was going to come with me whether she liked it or not.

And I knew she wouldn't.

I thought back on the night that it happened to me. It seemed so recent, but it was so long ago. Years ago. Four to be exact. Four years without me and she had changed so much.

Annabeth refused to let her hair down. She hid the golden locks from anyone. Anything that made her less attractive. She wore t-shirts a few sizes too large and jeans that dragged in the mud or clung to the bottom of her shoes. Her grey eyes were dull now, there was no excitement. No one was dumb enough to entertain her—no one but me. When the Aphrodite cabin offered her a makeover or wanted her to hang out in their cabin, she would decline and say she had some buildings to tend to up on Olympus.

Olympus had been finished for six years by now.

Anyways, the night it happened to me, the night I was stolen, I had been offered something that no one else had been able to do. I could take their place. I could become the Thief in return for Elysium if I was replaced. It hasn't happened yet, but I'm still waiting.

It's a miserable life being the Thief. The looks on their faces is always the same and something screams at you, something inside falls apart. But you do it anyway, because you know you can't stop it or prevent it from happening.

I breathed in the cool night air and reveled in the familiar scent. Where I was currently held, a foul smell that nipped your nose and tore at your eyes was all that was present.

The waves shook the ground violently and the sky crackled with electricity. Birds scattered from the trees and shook them. It would've been terrifying if I wasn't so focused on getting the job done right. I felt her mother's presence and glanced around me to make sure she hadn't materialized to stop me.

The mothers were always the hardest. They complained. They whimpered. Then they resorted to threatening you. And when you see the look in their eyes you just want to cry and stop yourself cold in your tracks. But you keep going.

The Athena cabin was in my sight by now as I raced down past Thalia's tree and towards the original set of the cabins. Everything doubled and my sight was blurry. It bothered me—what I was about to do.

The name's Perseus. Perseus Jackson. Official Soul Thief of Hades.


	2. A Choice You Made

**-A quick explanation-**

**December 24, 2016**

_**The Jackson Residence:  
**_**Percy's bedroom**

I threw back my covers and sat on the soft mattress, thinking over the day and what the signs could've possibly meant to me. I ran my hands through my hair. The happenings of the past five hours had turned me paranoid, because one thing I had learned over time was that when you see a random shadow or start hearing voices, it's not just your imagination. I dropped my head on the pillow and a burst of air brushed through my lips. I couldn't set myself comfortably.

Just as my mind released the feeling of anxiety and my eyes began to drift closed, an obnoxious _thud_ resounded from downstairs in the living room. I groaned and, without a sudden movement, grabbed _Anaklusmos_. It extended in my grasp from a ball-point pen to a three-foot long Celestial Bronze sword. The balance of the weapon—which I naturally found reassuring—provided no comfort or acceptance of its disposal at the time. I later learned why.

Everything went deathly quiet and then a silent muffled curse was directly outside my bedroom door. I didn't think much of it at the time. People had followed me before—like my friend Annabeth, for example—so I figured that it was something about camp or just Nico pulling a lame prank. No big deal.

When my feet hit the floor I thought I had stepped on a sheet of ice. The navy blue carpeting looked no different and I was wearing socks. Things were starting to make no sense at all, but I stupidly pushed it off, as always.

I reached out to grab the door handle and quickly pulled away. It was so cold that it burned my skin. I was almost certain that dry ice had wrapped around my room and was determined to blanket me in frost. I waved my hand loosely and stared at my palm. It was a darkening pink, like I had sat on my hands for a few hours without getting up once.

A sinister laugh voiced itself in my mind, sending a shiver up and down my spine. "Percy," the voice breathed. It exhaled slowly and a gust of wind consumed the room. The air swirled and stirred around me, causing my hair to run wild with the wind and whip my forehead constantly. It gasped quickly and my windows shuttered under the pressure. "Percy," it murmured.

I whipped around towards my window as the moonlight suddenly began streaming in and painting the room with liquid silver. The stars began blinking in-and-out of existence until the constellations were a jumble of space dust. A humanoid shadow consumed a corner of my room. It leaned on the wall leisurely and opened its eyes. They were a glowing pure white.

The… thing pushed off of the wall and strolled towards me like this was a normal thing. I realized that it was purely made of shadows. Figures wrapped around a basic outline of a person and strapped on tightly. When it moved, the shadows changed and shimmered. It was as if the thing was made of Hades' clothes. Tortured souls screaming for mercy, sleeping children with a mask of slight terror, other incidents that made people think that it just wasn't their time yet.

That's when I wondered what you had to do to tattoo this things forearm.

"You don't know who I am?" it frowned, seeming disappointed. "That's a shame, because I certainly know your name."

I couldn't resist feeling like an important figure and grinning slightly.

The shadow traveled swiftly to my side, as if it could teleport, and whispered in my ear, "Considering who I am… that's not a good thing."

A lump wrapped up in my throat and shifted uncomfortably as I did. I rifled through all the legends and stories, trying to find something about a shadow-man that came in the middle of the night, but nothing would come. I was drawing a blank. I had faced millions of monsters and creatures from Tartarus, none like this one.

As if reading my mind, he backed away. "I'm not something well known. I'm not one of those under-developed numbskull disasters that you best on a daily basis. I am something more... mature." His breath puffed out as a visible grey smoke with every word he said. "I have haunted mankind since the beginning of my end. I prey on the young. I appear at disasters. I am the accidental death. Death of youth."

My mind went completely blank as his—its—words really sunk in. Death of youth. I'm dead? The question echoed through my head.

"Not dead," he whispered. "Not yet."

His face morphed oddly, bunching together and then expanding. He opened his mouth like he was about to groan or scream but all that rang was silence. A lot of silence. It burned a whole in the atmosphere and tossed a thought around until his face was familiar. Sea green eyes were shaded with unruly black hair.

I was staring at myself.

I backed away until my leg collided with my bed. I somehow knew Riptide wasn't something that could help me at this point. I felt the connection between me and my weapon fading. I stared at my mirroring image. He stretched out a hand and frowned for a moment. I tried to back away from his touch and luck was actually a lady that night. A faint shimmer of gold clustered together, bursting over the horizon slowly. He turned to glare at the sun, instantly dimming back to a shadow.

The last I heard from him, he muttered one word and was gone: "Tomorrow."

All through the next day, I dreaded the following night. I went on with my normal routine, hoping that everything had just been a dream. A horrible, dreadful dream.

I even considered calling Annabeth and talking to her about it.

I hadn't spoken to her for awhile. Ever since she dug deep in work on Olympus, we didn't seem as close as we should've been.

I sat down on a bench that was pointlessly planted on the sidewalk in front of the Empire State Building. I tried to focus and see if I could hear the faint whisper of the gods as they bellowed up on Olympus. My father seemed furious with another immortal.

_You send that monster without my permission?_ His deep voice was rough and on edge about something.

A slick voice returned the harshness. _My 'monster' is not under the influence that either of us have control. He takes who he wants._

There was a brief pause as a car tumbled down the road, horn blaring as traffic slowed. I became conscious of the outside world as people strolled down the sidewalk with Starbucks coffee in their hands and Bluetooth phones shoved in their ears. A family ran by and a little girl jumped in a puddle, sending water splashing over her and myself. Her parents scolded her and pulled her away, not paying me much heed. I was used to being ignored by now.

I focused on the familiar, and usually gentle, voice of my father up on Olympus. I cleared my mind and leaned back on the bench.

—_and if it _does_ manage to take my son, I'll make you regret it._ I knew my dad was calm and didn't threaten often, but his voice even sent a chill down my spine.

_How could you harm me? Imbecile. _Hades muttered under his breath. Thunder groaned and rumbled over the building and the crowd paused to stare at the clouds. After a moment they continued with their activities.

My dad inhaled deeply. _You may not be able to be harmed severely_, he paused like he would regret what he was about to say,_ but Nico—_

_You think of touching—_

_Don't force me into action. _I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I stood up from the bench, knocking into a man with a phone call and little patience.

"Hey, watch it!" he growled, clicking the TALK button on his phone. "He-he-hey, man." He smiled and wandered down the street.

I ignored him and stumbled back towards my apartment. My dad wouldn't seriously harm someone's child because of what another person did, right? I wanted to believe I was right. But I had to remember that he was a god. He did things like that his whole immortal life. There was no doubt that Nico was in danger.

I walked inside the complex and stepped in the elevator. The numbers rose with my thoughts. If I could find Nico before the sun set, then I might be able to warn him. He just had to stay away from the water… forever.

I pushed open my door and fumbled with my key for a moment, not really sure of what I was trying to do. I gave up and threw it onto my dining room table. I sat in front of them and ran my hands threw my hair, completely aggravated. My dad wasn't one for rash actions or harming innocent kids. I knew what the problem was. I knew from the beginning of the conversation. But I didn't want to accept the fact that my friend was going to be punished because of me. I couldn't let it happen.

With my mind racing, time stretched on. The sun dove beneath the hills and buried itself in them, and the moon wallowed behind clouds, snuggling up in the blankets of grey. My room darkened and I still hadn't cleared my mind until my alarm clock randomly went off. A constant _beep_ drummed like a metronome. I looked around and back at the clock.

That was it.

I ran into my bathroom and tossed aside the shower curtain. I twisted the knob fully to the right and steaming water flooded down on my left sleeve. I patted down my pants and dug my hands in my pockets. No drachma.

I searched my apartment, under my bed, through my clothes, behind my desk. Nothing gold caught my eye besides my chocolate gold coin in one of my jacket pockets. I stepped on the peddle to my trash can and almost threw it away, but thought better of it.

That one chocolate gold coin—whether I knew it or not—was to be the last thing I would ever eat for a while.

Almost immediately after the wrapper was in the trash bag, wind whirled and my windows busted open. The curtains flowed flawlessly and the lights flickered. Everything stopped and then I heard him.

"Good to see you again."

I whipped around. It was obvious that I was frantic—it had to be. My movement was rough and tired, but on edge. I felt my eyes starting to drop bags under them from stress and lack of sleep. It was around 1:30 in the morning.

"Hi," I nodded impishly to the empty air.

A vortex of charcoal dust swirled from the window and evaporated, leaving the shadowed man in its place. I rushed out a prayer.

_Father, forgive him._

"Ah, don't worry about Nico. His fate's not too bad, I assure you," he grinned wickedly. I glared at him. "Now, onto business." It stepped towards me and I made a point of taking an equal step back, colliding into my trash can. "Did I introduce myself? Hi," he held out a leathery black hand, "I'm the Soul Thief."

My left eye twitched awkwardly and watched his hand. He dropped it and walked back around my apartment.

"Nice place you got," he said. His words were relaxed on his lips as he looked over my pictures.

"Thanks," I stuttered out. He looked at me and let out an irritated sigh.

"Let's get this over with. I'm gonna take your soul real quick and be on my way," he grinned and stepped towards me, holding out his hands.

"Wait," I said, my hands held in defense equally. "I think there's been a misunderstanding."

"Percy Jackson?"

I nodded.

"Son of Poseidon."

I gave him the same response.

He shrugged, "Nope. No misunderstanding. Why don't you make it easy on yourself? Give me your soul willingly," he grinned wickedly, "and I won't take the daughter of Athena for my troubles."

I paused, my breathing hitched in my throat, eyes wild. "W-what?" I stumbled over words and my mind started working a mile every second. A cold shiver ran down my back and my fingers felt numb.

He lifted his head higher and his eyes glowed a hotter orange-yellow shade, "I got a better one. You take my place or I take you _and_ the Athena girl!" He clapped his hands and sent a waved of force through the room. I was unmoved by it, unlike the other objects in my home. I knew what that meant. He had sealed some deal that I couldn't back out of.

**To anyone who does read this, I'm having fun writing this so it will be updated when I can fit it in.**


	3. Innocence is My Bliss

**Hey, so no reviews, but for some reason I don't care. Hmm.**

**-Where were we? Oh yes.-**

**July 12, 2010**

_**Camp Half-Blood:**_**  
****Athena Cabin**

I stood hopelessly over her and bit my lip. Her blonde curls were sprawled across the pillow and with her mouth slightly open, I couldn't do it. I knew I had to, but something held me back. I knew exactly what it was. She was my best friend. I couldn't just… take her away from everyone.

My hands stretched out over her, where they hovered. My eyes burned and my vision blanked as I felt energy draining from her. Only a little at a time. I had witnessed firsthand that if I just tore away the soul, it could evaporate or destroy itself. It seeped into my hand slowly. She stirred in her sleep as her breathing began to slow and I realized that I had to stop. If she woke up, I'd have serious issues completing my task.

I almost pulled my hands away when a cold shimmer of Celestial Bronze touched down across my neck. I cursed and turned silently to look at whoever had stopped me. Malcolm stood calmly, glaring at me, nostrils flaring. I felt relieved that he had just saved Annabeth's life.

The Laws of the Thieves clearly stated that if we were caught in an act of 'treachery' we could choose battle or escape. And looking at Malcolm, I had an easy chance defeating him. Looking at Annabeth, I had an even easier chance of just giving in.

"Back away from her," he growled, pressing the sword down into the shadow cage I had built over the years.

I did as told and kept glancing at Annabeth. She was fine. She turned over in her sleep and murmured something about me. Malcolm didn't even glance at her and I realized that it probably happened every night. "Malcolm, I—"

He lunged out at me and I pulled back, avoiding the blade. I really had to be careful. If he did manage to hit my shadow armor, then that soul—wherever it was—would vanish. It would cease to exist.

"Malcolm," I tried again. I didn't have any hopes that he would recognize my steely voice, but if I could just get him to listen to me…

"Stop that!" He growled, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Other campers stirred slowly and muttered something incomprehensible.

"It's me," I whispered to him. I opened my mouth to reveal my name, but for some reason, the name got caught on the tip of my tongue. What was that name? Who was I?

"_Me_ who?" he asked cautiously, making a point to keep his sword up to me.

"I—I can't remember," I mumbled.

A little girl sat up and rubbed her eyes. She yawned and stretched, and glanced from me to Malcolm. She smiled and waved at me, grinning like mad. She stared at Annabeth for a while before crawling out of bed.

"Dacey, go back to bed," Malcolm warned her, glaring at me with intense grey eyes. I looked at the girl, hoping with all of my being that she knew my name. She had to. She was innocent.

There was just something about innocent kids. They could see through my veil and knew my name in an instant. It was a curious idea, and yet, there it was. It had never happened for other Thieves. I looked at her hopefully.

She ran up to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. Souls parted for her; as if afraid they could break her frail, young body. Malcolm tried to yank her away but she slapped his hand back. "Mine," she mumbled into my t-shirt.

I waited anxiously. Say the name. Say it.

"Perce," she whispered to just me. Perce? Was that my name?

"Dacey, stop," Malcolm ordered, trying to avoid aiming his weapon at her. I knelt down to her level, ignoring him. "Hey!"

I looked into her big silver eyes and put my hands on her shoulders. "I'll see you in the morning?" I asked her, knowing full well what was going to happen. I had failed to take Annabeth quietly. This would require force now.

She nodded. I think she might've understood, too, that I was going to have to make my surprise appearance at Camp Half-Blood in the morning. Without my cage, I'd know everything about myself. I'd feel the emotions that I'd missed so much. I'd see the people I'd loved.

Malcolm couldn't control his anger any longer. His ADHD consumed him, and in vengeance for his two sisters, he lunged at me. I winked at the little girl and vanished into a silvery mist.

Dacey waved goodbye the whole time.

~:*:~

I stared down at my tanned hands. There were no shadows consuming them. I felt my face slowly and breathed in the scent of sea salt that lingered around my old form. Black hair draped in front of my eyes and I caught a glance at the one silver streak. Painful memories came back to me and I stroked the strand gently.

Percy Jackson was back.

**Oooh-kay. This… was unfortunately not planned. But I think I can come up with ideas easily.**


	4. SingledOut Soul

**Hey, not that I care or anything, but if my reviewer and story alertest wouldn't mind, could you spread word about this story? I just want to know if it's any good.**

**And in the last chapter, I messed up. The year was supposed to be 2020. **

**Thanks.**

**-Greeting Exchange-**

**July 13, 2020**

_**Camp Half-Blood:  
**_**Poseidon Cabin**

I felt up my forearms with excitement, ignoring the conch shell that bellowed in the distance. I grabbed my cheeks and smiled. I was so happy I could've cried, but I had to remember my task. I had only two weeks to grab her before all the souls that were tied to me vanished. I was supposed to protect them and carry them safely after they made their imprint on my body. I peered out of the curtains and the warmth of the sun bathed my face for the first time in year. Campers passed by, running down to the commons yard.

Here we go, Percy. Breathe.

When everyone had crowded into the pavilion, I slipped out of the cabin door and pulled a hood over my head. I blended pretty well with Nico as a child of Hades but I knew better than to sit at the table. Hades would've incinerated me. I sat down casually at the Poseidon table and scanned the area. What I found odd was that no one seemed to notice my presence; I was just another shadow.

I caught Annabeth's eyes through my bangs, her face emotionless and cold. She stared back down at her food and slumped her shoulders, picking through the barbeque. I looked towards Mr. D's table but he wasn't there anymore, and I hated to admit how miserable that made me. I had grown used to seeing his scowling red face and purpling hair. Clarisse leaned forward at her table, pushing strawberries like candy, ignoring her ugly friends.

I had never realized the impact I had on the camp. I understood Annabeth's depression, sure. But Clarisse? Maybe she missed her favorite punching bag.

Chiron shifted on his hooves, watching the Athena table discretely, and then glancing at his novel. He didn't seem as affected by my disappearance, and I finally understood what he meant. It did get depressing at times, training heroes, but he'd grown used to it over the millennia.

When breakfast had ended I avoided other campers. Some appeared to notice me but they just shook their heads and refocused their attention on anything else. I silently prayed that all of these people didn't imagine me on a daily basis. I mean it was okay for some girls, but even the guys?

I hung out by the water, a comforting sight after years of sneaking into houses and buildings and stealing innocent souls. I dug my hands into my pockets and watched the sun reflect off the glassy water. Trees loomed over me, providing shade, like they knew I couldn't handle so much sun after running with Artemis for so long.

Someone came to join me on the pier but I was careful not to move, hoping they thought I was a mirage their mind had conjured up to comfort them somehow. Something philosophical like that…

Annabeth pushed her hair over her shoulder and stared out on the water, where canoes speckled the lake voluminously. She didn't even cast a glance at me, so I made the move to look at her. When I did, the wind started bustling through the leaves, casting them down on us.

"Annabeth," I whispered. Her body tensed and it seemed she refused to turn and look at me. She blocked her eyes from the world and clenched her jaw tightly, crossing her arms across her chest. "Annabeth, look at me."

She mumbled something to herself. I knew it would be difficult, nearly impossible, to convince her to listen to what she didn't believe. Her logical side told her that I was just an image in her mind, that maybe she was just going crazy. "Go away, Percy."

I turned to look back at the water, my hood straining against the top if my head. "Not the welcome back I was expecting. But I can go with that."

She turned towards me unsurely. "You're not real."

I shrugged. "And you're a satyr. Heck, I'll go ahead and call you a pegasus." I glanced at her and she looked at me, straining against some force to come closer to me. Maybe I should've showered before I popped into camp from the Underworld. I turned my body towards her and held out a limp hand. "Go ahead, test it for yourself."

She looked at the outstretched palm and took a swift peek at the world around us. No one paid any attention; no one seemed to care about what we were doing. Her lips tightened into a thin line and she hesitantly tapped the back of my hand. Solid. Her eyes widened considerably as she backed away, tripping over herself to get away from me.

I started towards her but she turned and ran towards the Big House screaming out Chiron's name. The horse-man was standing on the wrap-around porch, already expecting her when she sprung up the steps. She started sprouting out words quickly, motioning to where I was still standing. Chiron listened patiently, as if he expected it. I glanced at the sky and thunder rumbled through the clouds.

The ground trembled roughly and a crevice the size of my forearm opened up. A piece of paper sprung through, at my feet—a letter from Hades. I picked it up, glancing at the pair, and read the letter.

_Keep the centaur out of this._

_X __Hades_

I rolled my eyes and made a break for the forest, keeping a close eye on them. Annabeth was trying to explain to Chiron, him holding her shoulders. I could tell he was trying to calm her and she inhaled deeply. I ducked into the protection of the trees as Annabeth grabbed Chiron's wrist and started dragging him back to the pier. She turned and noticed my disappearance with disbelief strewn across her features.

Chiron shook his head and pulled his hand back gently, guiding her towards the cabins. I felt like a total jerk as I slumped down to the ground and leaned on a tree trunk. I could imagine the others whispering things about her, calling her psychotic. _Athena, forgive me._

I spent numerous hours against that tree trunk, reflecting over my time as the Soul Thief. I had stolen small children in car accidents, cancer patients, even an old man who had fallen down a flight of steps and broken his neck. Life, as it seemed, was just a giant death trap, designed especially to keep me occupied. I despised every second of my existence.

Before I could make a move away from my hiding place, the horn for lunch was echoing in the distance, drawing me towards the smells of barbeque that I realized I missed excessively. I scrambled to my feet and adjusted my hood further over my eyes.

The walk to lunch was quicker than expected, tons of demigods running to the commons yard and lining up. I stood alone where I used to stand, representing the Poseidon cabin. The only difference really was that I was also representing Hades. I stood away from the others, as conspicuous as a sore thumb. I felt like all eyes were on me, but the only pair I really caught were Dacey's. She grinned and waved at me before Malcolm pulled her gently into line.

Everyone marched into the pavilion and sat at their respective tables. I sat on the comfortably open bench and kept my head down. I filled my plate up, grateful that I was able to eat again. I felt like Tantalus, unable to eat for eternity. The food was warm and juicy in my mouth; I savored every bite like I'd never taste again.

As lunch went on, I moved food around on my plate and study the marble tabletop. For the first time I noticed a very light trident engraftment with the number 3 in the center of the table. It appeared to me that years of trays rubbing against the sign had rubbed it away to nearly nothing. I traced my finger across it, dust gathering on my index.

Everything was suddenly tense and silent. The back of my neck and my cheeks felt hot, worry gathering inside of me. The feeling of people watching me was airborne around me. I dared to glance up. Few sets of eyes were watching me; people had stopped chattering animatedly, only whispering. I glanced at Mr. D's table, satyrs sitting awkwardly. I noticed Grover with wide slit-style eyes. He dropped his tin can and hesitantly stood up.

"Percy?" he bleated. He trotted up to me, his shaggy hindquarters twitching anxiously. Grover's attention shifted towards the Athena table and I closed my eyes. My hands balled into fists and I grinded my teeth.

Annabeth pushed back my hood and glared at me. "You're supposed to be _dead_."

I opened my mouth to respond but my mind was questioning everything. What made everyone suddenly notice me now? Why not at breakfast or just not at all? I had been around the whole camp already that morning and no one wasted a glance in my direction. _Why now?_

Grover poked my shoulder and bleated. "_Blah-ha-ha!_ Percy!" He lunged at me and enveloped my body in a tight hug, his arms squeezing me until I was blue in the face. Annabeth crossed her arms and refused to look at me. I escaped Grover's cobra-hold and stood in front of Annabeth awkwardly. I realized how close we were, our faces about four inches away.

Chiron appeared, towering over us all with his hunter's bow slung over his shoulder. His confused demeanor forced me to tense more, my body rigid and frozen in a pendulum of suspension. Maybe I was overreacting, maybe under, but I decided to take a safe amount of steps away from Annabeth and Grover until Chiron was sure about me.

"Percy Jackson, by the gods," he mumbled under his breath.

**Uhh, yeah. Definitely not my best but I've had a stressful weekend. I won't go into details because they can bore. Remember, suggest the story.**


	5. What I'd Risk

**July 13, 2020**

_**Camp Half-Blood:  
**_**Dining Pavilion**

It was at any given moment in that morning that I realized how terribly my life sucked. Had it been when I was taking orders from Hades? I couldn't doubt it. Perhaps when I had nearly scared Annabeth into the lake; how should I know? But I had realized it, I had despised, and then I had accepted. This was the life chosen for me, laid out, and a note left to the side with all the rules and regulations that guided and restricted me.

Life was an unfair test that you had to go through to discover who you are and your purpose.

Mine had been simply to save Olympus the one time by being brave enough to hand over my knife to a guy I no longer trusted—or was it stupidity? Now, it was to steal and guide and protect. I was the modern day Robin Hood.

The way Chiron was looking at me made me feel like he was trying to be kind but he honestly didn't want me there at camp. I couldn't disagree; I hardly wanted to be there. But the feelings that came with camp were worth the world to me.

And a problem with technical deaths and arrivals was separation. I could feel and see the distance between Annabeth and I. She had drawn a line around her and built up those walls that so many discussed. They were the means of protection for a heart, and I didn't enjoy appearing in front of her only to find the door locked. The bridge was up, the gators snapping. No way good a prince ever reach the tower.

I rubbed the back of my neck and left my hand in place as my eyes met Annabeth's. She didn't except my arrival or my existence. The way she looked at me, all I had was the one chance and she was done. Grover, on the other hand, was nearly jumping for joy, trying to restrain himself. I could feel his leg twitch, causing mine to, also.

"Percy," Chiron's arm reached out towards me. "Care to join me in the Big House?"

I looked around at my fellow campers and caught a sudden strange chill running down my spine. Everyone, all the people I had grown and fought with, were grown. All but myself; they had become young adults. Even the Stoll brothers stood calmly in front of their seats, watching me. And I was still the age that I had left, or so I appeared. I was mentally older, but my physical body was trapped down at the younger age. I was the little kid to all of them now.

I nodded but refused to be guided to a place I had been at least a thousand times. I walked behind the centaur, quietly studying the ground below my feet. As we walked, I picked up and listened to the sound of gentle feet padding along behind me. I clenched my jaw to keep from laughing, amused that Annabeth still thought she could follow without my noticing. I knew her too well to know she would do something whether I liked it or not, though I didn't mind this time.

I evened my pace with Chiron and we walked the stairs together, not talking, not paying the other any attention. He motioned toward the old card table and I hesitantly sat in Mr. D's seat as Chiron compacted himself into the small box on the magical wheelchair. He was so easily bound to confinement, and I started thinking deeper in my life, as I seemed to do often.

He studied my face before asking me what happened to me.

I contemplated telling him; I trusted the old horse considerably more than I trusted Annabeth, which was saying a lot. I… adored Annabeth. Trust was necessary between us. We had trusted each other with our lives, our secrets.

And so began my telling of the night I was stolen up until my most recent, horrible task of whisking away a young girl in her sleep. She was not yet five years old. I did, however, avoid stating my current mission, knowing my victim was in the hearing vicinity.

Chiron's face, thousand-year old eyes, said everything. He was disbelieving; he'd never heard of such a creature. It was true it was kept well under wraps, but it was also something you had to become before learning of. Some couldn't comprehend the thought unless the experience was theirs to share. I waited silently for him to respond.

"You will not be with us long, I assume," he said and I could hear the grief in his tone.

"Two weeks," I agreed. No, it wasn't long to be able to catch up with everybody. Unfortunately, it was enough time to adjust to the life style before I had to leave it behind again.

"Well," Chiron leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "What brings you here now? Is it a task I've been dreading?"

I started to nod before I caught his words. "You've _been_ dreading?"

"Oh, yes, of course," he told me, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. "I sense when something is either about to go terribly wrong or terribly right. But this is not something that I enjoy currently, so I would assume…"

I pursed my lips and rubbed my face with my hands, so unfamiliar and comfortable. "Yeah, it is. Please… don't ask what. Just… please don't." But I knew I hadn't given the target up, the very second I made the plea. Chiron's face was solemn and he stared at the table.

"Very well," he cleared his throat. "When do you plan on taking action?"

I was surprised, confused even. Chiron was allowing me to take one of his campers without a fight. Why? Was it for fear of interfering with the god of the Underworld's business? Or was he just too tired to try and fight something so terrible?

"I was holding off for as long as possible," I confided.

He shook his head and met my eyes. "Percy, it may seem like a nice idea, spending time with old friends while you can. But believe me you, when you've become reattached, it'll be too late. You won't be able to do as you're told. What would be the consequences?"

Eternal damnation in the Fields of Punishment; the deepest circle reserved for failures while working for Hades. I started to believe Annabeth was worth that risk, but I hurriedly ripped that thought from my mind. I couldn't survive a second stuck there, knowing I'd never see Annabeth again. Because, once you were there, you didn't get that second chance at life.

I decided not to answer his question, which only made him jump to a conclusion. "Is that worth it?" He asked me, and I became aware that he was striving for the best thing for me, because he really did care. My disappearance had struck him as hard, but he lived with these deaths every day. So, how could I bring more of that?

"I think," I paused to consider my words. "I just want a little time being me. This isn't about her right now. I've missed so much already. You know I forgot my own name?" I asked, keeping an even tone for as long as possible. I was stressing this point to the area of no return. He needed to understand.

"Percy Jackson, you will never forget who you were or your old life, will you?" He asked just as even. I knew he was right. I didn't openly admit, but it was true. I knew I was the Hero of Olympus and I had once… dated a beautiful, intelligent, independent girl named Annabeth. But it was painful remembering all that I had. I'd have rather remembered my name then all of the things finally going right in my life.

"I'm technically still alive," I told mostly myself. Chiron rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and rubbed his fingers as I spoke. "I was never stolen; I'm not dead. Not yet."

He appeared satisfied for the time being.

That was the moment I felt the old porch tremble and footsteps bounced off of it, taking the step, all of them at a time, and was gone into a full sprint. I didn't know if she had caught on, but I couldn't just ask her about it.

**Suggest, guys. I'm not even asking for reviews, just suggest to friends and your readers if you think this story is even okay. Don't comment on how lame that makes me; it's late where I am and I'm not thinking too clearly right now.**


	6. Just Another

**July 13, 2020**

_**Camp Half-Blood:  
**_**Canoe Lake**

I led my life as if I had never left, training with Riptide—oh how I missed it—learning Ancient Greek, chores and the basic routines of every camper. I was careful with how I acted around Annabeth, fully aware of her harsh and uncomfortable glare that was constantly being sent my way. Neither of us seemed to be in the wrong for how we acted, but I felt like the blame was mine. I knew I was wrong for thinking it, but I couldn't shake the feeling.

I sat in my canoe, the paddle resting across the two walls of the small boat, and stared up at the sky. The sun was scorching hot, close to blinding me, but the warmth held me in a trance. I closed my eyes and shut my mind down, relaxing onto the back of my chair. The water rippled and I was shifted over tiny waves; not enough to catch my attention.

The lapping sound of water warned me of an approaching canoe and I was quick to push it to the back of my mind. One moment, I was resting peacefully in my canoe, minding my own business, and the next, I was submerged completely underwater, my canoe flipped, and the water tossing around me. I surfaced to find an emotionless Annabeth holding her paddle across her canoe and staring down at me.

I swam to my flipped vessel and threw my arms over the bottom of it, staring up at her incredulously. We did just that for only minimal seconds until I broke the silence. "What was that for?"

"What?" she asked, her face still impassive.

"_That_," I explained. I ran my fingers over the water's surface on the other side of the canoe, anxiously forming a miniature whirlpool.

She shrugged. "Just checking."

"Checking _what_?" I cried hopelessly. I may have been away for a while, but I was sure this wasn't how I remembered her behaving. She was more distant and critical, analyzing my entirety all over again.

"You," she replied coolly, sniffing and picking up her paddle again. "You're still dry."

I gave her an elaborate shaking of my head, my hands outstretched in utter confusion. "Of course I'm dry!" She raised her eyebrows dismissively and gave me a quick nod, starting to paddle away from me. Before she could, I reached out to grab the back of her canoe and pulled her to a quick stop. "Annabeth, wait."

"What?" she asked, turning back to look at me, her eyes indifferent as before.

"Where are you going?"

"To get on with my next activity," she told me, her face half way to amused. I got comfortable next to the vessel, resting my arms on the side, and ran her schedule through my mind. I thought it odd that I had remembered it.

"You didn't have canoeing in this time slot. Only Poseidon cabin," I countered, trying to keep a smirk off my face, afraid of coming on too strong as just who she had remembered.

"I didn't have _anything_ in this time slot," she reminded me, evenly.

"And you came canoeing in your free time," I raised my brows, feeling like I had finally caught her. She, however refreshingly, had the quick and smart, satisfying response.

"Well, it's common for someone to investigate when their dead boyfriend suddenly comes back to life."

It wasn't a difficult task to guilt me into anything. So, it was expected that I felt a twinge of guilt, having left without a warning or goodbye, even with the fault belonging to someone else. I had suddenly left, never heard from again until now, and was careful to avoid her.

"It doesn't really matter now," she turned away from me, as a way to tell me that she was leaving and that I should let go of her canoe. "You're back. Everyone's happy again."

"Except for you," I tried, musing as best I could without coming off as rude. My eyebrows shot up under my bangs upon the silent response. She paddled once and I let her go, not quite adjusted enough to get in any sort of fight with her.

When she was just out of my reach, the butt of her boat about seven feet away, she turned for a moment. "Yeah. Except for me."

I spent the rest of my time in the canoe, floating at the surface next to my tipped vessel, staring up at the sun again. Perhaps it was the fact that I hadn't been able to see the sunshine for a few years; perhaps it was how the sun was so far away; whatever the reason, it made me feel closer, more grounded. Because, the sun was so distant and everyone relied on it, while I was so close and people were done relying on me. I was the retired sun of Camp Half-Blood. I didn't have to _do_ anything anymore.

I pulled my canoe back to the shore and beached it, still upside down. I came out of the lake completely dry, and it felt like the first time I had discovered the neat trick; fresh and exciting.

Just another camper, I thought. Just another camper. Maybe if I told myself that enough, I would believe it.

**A short chapter; sorry it took so long to update and then I gave you crap, but a majority of the chapters might be cut down to short, romantic-like chapters. It's a possibility, not a definite decision.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: To all my dear, sweet, lovingly faithful reviewers,**

**This story, effective immediately, unless decided otherwise, will be placed on HIATUS. I realize that this is against the rules, but I felt I owed you all an explanation and I hope you don't report, for this chapter will be deleted upon the continuation.**

**You may ask why I am suddenly holding off. If you would like to know, I'm writing what will probably escalade into a trilogy, but for now is a story that is like venting and revenge. **

**I know—wow, high fiving Jesus, that's really immature. When you read this story, it may help you understand, it may not.**

**My muse: my lying, but sweet, boyfriend. Humph, lying and sweet don't belong in the same sentence… Let's try this. My boyfriend's really sweet to me. However, he's a compulsive liar about what I consider to be important. Did I mention he broke a promise?**

**I bet you don't care, I wouldn't. But it's a heads up for a story that is consuming all of my thoughts. I would feel terrible writing a chapter that doesn't blend well with what's happened so far, and so I'm going to get this out of my system.**

**Thank you for your consideration and cooperation.**

**Seriously, **_**please**_** don't report because this message is only temporary.**

**My story: **_**Exposure**_**.**

**Rating: T**

**Characters: Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase**

**World: Books, AU (Alternate Universe)**

**Thanks again!**


	8. Good morning's are like 'I love you's

**A/N: **_**And**_**… go.**

**July 13, 2020**

_**Camp Half-Blood:  
**_**Dining Pavilion**

Lunch went as expected, with me at my table, Annabeth at hers, and there was never a time where we exceeded five seconds of not meeting each other's eyes or staring and awkwardly turning away when the other was taking their turn. It didn't bother me yet, my being able to look at her without pain; it was okay because that feeling was covered by a wanting so strong that it hurt. It hurt to breathe when she would turn away, and blinking irritated my eyes because that was a brief moment were I wouldn't see her, and just _being_ didn't make sense any more. Because she was _right there_ and for whatever reason, I hadn't moved towards her yet and I just didn't know why.

I didn't know why she was being so difficult; I didn't know why I was allowing her to be stubborn. I didn't know why, I didn't get it, I didn't like it.

I remembered thinking that maybe if I waved or winked or _something_ then she would finally recognize me and then, only then, she would talk to me and I could tell her how much I missed her. Not anyone else at camp, not anyone else—aside from my mom—but her. I wanted her and I wanted to have my head in her lap when I was taking a power nap because of my stupid Achilles' Heel and I wanted her to run her fingers through my hair and I wanted her knife to meet my blade for old times' sake and I wanted her… I wanted her to look at me and remember.

I didn't know why, but I wanted her to hate me, too.

I wanted her to think that I had left her and be _so freaking pissed_ because that would mean that she cared. I wanted her to hate my guts for my thinking it was okay to disappear without a goodbye. And I wanted her to think I was the scum of the earth for _breaking her heart_.

But I wanted too much.

Because her face was a stone, beautifully carved into a glare. She was a rose, the blood red petals slowly blistering under a searing fire, popping and cracking and dissolving to nothing but a small pile of ash where a phoenix, cold and harsh, could rise and take my Annabeth's place. She was a stone, a precious gem, gleaming and fresh and real, but easy to injure yourself if you stumbled over a bad end. She was everything and nothing and so much, too much for my mind to process.

This was the Annabeth I had come back to.

But I still wanted her _so_ bad.

I hadn't realized that there was a plate set before me full of food laid out by my hand until I finally tore my gaze from hers for that fraction of a second. Everyone was standing and shuffling around but the two of us, and I wondered what she had been thinking about. I cleared my throat and slipped into the line for dumping food into the bronze brazier for the gods. When my turn had come along, I did as was routine and dumped a strawberry oozing juice for Poseidon, then a crisped bread roll for Hades. And I prayed, long and hard, that one of them would take my burden and just give it to someone else because I couldn't take my Annabeth down to the Underworld where she would possibly wait for a near eternity to see me, if things happened to work out that way.

Annabeth must have caught me staring into the flames, my plate still poised for dumping food but my hand so readily stilled by thoughts. Her fingers brushed mine as she dumped a clump of berries slowly, her eyes trained on my face. She murmured something and I wasn't sure if it was to me or a god, but she quickly turned and set herself back in her seat, glancing at me once before bowing her head and eating.

I sat at my table quietly, noting Chiron's watchful gaze and ignoring it. My fork ran through my food but it hardly held my attention for more than a second as I continued my gazing at Annabeth. I could hear Mr. D standing, saying something that was obviously unimportant to him, but it made news to the campers. Some cheers went up and I couldn't be bothered to figure out why. Annabeth's face had lit up for a fraction of a second and then she looked at me and dimmed considerably.

But it was sadness, I noticed. Maybe longing, wistful thoughts like mine were.

She mouthed something to me, something I couldn't get my brain to process, words that were jumbled and confusing and altogether not real enough to affect me unless they were intimate in some way.

I mouthed the customary _what?_ and she rolled her eyes, repeated herself, looked over at Malcolm who had tapped her arm. Everything was so fluid and steady and perfectly poised, like she had set up a strategy at making my stomach too weak to eat anymore. I had to set my fork down, push my plate away, lay my head on my table, breathe.

She was winning the unspoken contest of who could stay strong longest, like she knew I had a dead line and not taking action with her would simply save me too much heartbreak, the feeling of betrayal. I felt my breaths, shaky and weak and just not into the whole idea of needing oxygen to live. I felt my heart, slow and dull, drumming in my chest like it wanted to escape, like it hadn't been there in so long that it just didn't belong anymore. I didn't belong at camp; the air in my lungs, the beat of my heart, they didn't belong to me.

I almost dozed off with my self-loathing thoughts still scrambling what I had left of my dignity, my brain on overload with despising hatred. My eye lids were heavy and I knew that I hadn't slept in a number of years. I needed to take a nap, but the sun still ripened the skin on my neck with intense force.

Everything was so _wrong_.

Something shuffled on the table, something bare and unnoticeable had it not been so close and sudden. I glanced up, my mouth, my nose still buried behind my arms. Annabeth was towering over me; face that stone that was becoming so terribly familiar. Her eyes led a trail up to mine, heavy and closing. She extended a hand, something unexpected and different, that for all purposes I couldn't help but stare. She may have said words of encouragement, I wasn't listening to what was coming from her mouth, just acknowledging that she was there and she was real and that_ I_ was real and this whole place wasn't one of my secret longings as I stole souls for Hades. I took her palm, mine cold and clammy, hers warm and inviting. She may have smiled as she pulled me up, I couldn't remember. If she had, it was a fake one, half there, half unaware of everything around her. She didn't want to be talking to me—which I had just noticed she was doing—but she felt obligated.

Halfway to wherever she was leading me I felt her hand slip from mine and I was surprised and excited and all-around thrilled that she had held my hand, even if by common practice. I may have heard her apologize for something, I wasn't sure. My mouth, I felt it moving, like I was saying something but no words were coming out. She noticed but she didn't say anything back, only pulled me inside.

I only noticed we were inside because the reliable sun was no longer scorching my skin, asking me to come back to the world above, the world of light and peace and easier responsibility.

I felt myself lowering, somewhere, I wasn't sure. I felt my head dropping onto something, something soft and comfortable and so memorable that it killed me that I couldn't recognize. My eyes were getting heavier with time, something was racing through my locks, stroking over my temple gently. A sigh, I knew that she had realized that my mind was away from my body at the moment, I could feel her sadness. My heart was aching for something, I wanted to know.

At that moment, my eyes slipped closed and whatever was left of my consciousness left me lonely and stranded in empty nothingness.

I felt cold. I felt empty, and dead, and lonely, and warm, and broken and utterly useless. There was nothing around me, no light, no dark, no air, no suffocating pressure. There was no sound, no silence, no day nor night, no wind nor rain nor feeling. I wasn't there, wherever there was, and yet I was everywhere. When I was trapped in my shadow-tainted form, I felt cold, I heard silence, I was night and rain was everything. Hurt was me.

Now, something had to have been blocking that empty hatred, that painful sorrow, that lost darkness. Something had to be holding a flame to numb the ice and chase the dark and fight the loneliness by simply being. Something was there now. Something was real.

Time had passed, though I wasn't sure how much, before my eyes flickered open. The sky outside was dark and clouded and rich with the absence of light. A clock on a nightstand—my nightstand?—read five before midnight. I rotated my jaw, felt up at my hair, came across thin calloused skin; fingers, a hand. I tried to catch a visual of my pillow—denim.

I dropped my hand on her knee—Annabeth's knee, it had to be hers. She jolted under me, probably having fallen asleep; I could remember a midday sky just before nothingness came to me, and knew she had been there watching carefully while I slept. I shifted to face her, I shifted to see what she looked like asleep, just to remember, and was met by dim grey eyes partially concealed by soft lashes. A lazy smile spread across her lips.

I could understand something about Sleeping Beauty, though the words had yet to process. She craned her neck, just slightly, still giving a small sleepy smile and I pushed myself up to meet her with my lips. And I could suddenly remember why that longing had been so intense, and why my heart was there in my chest, and why I was hating myself more and more each day. Because I was going to kill this.

"Good morning, Seaweed Brain."

**A/N: Not long but it was cute and I think it deserved an award of some kind for being half-way decent.**


	9. Don't Blink

**A/N: Rating does seem to apply in this chapter, so be fore warned. It's nothing too terrible though, so I don't believe anyone has to turn back. Do as you wish.**

**July 14, 2020**

_**Camp Half-Blood:  
**_**Poseidon Cabin**

It must have been past midnight, I realized, by the crawl of my skin, the burning in my throat. Her hands were soft running through my hair yet again, only different this time. Gentle and collected and excited and lustful and loose, her fingers were twining together, freeing themselves collectively. Her thumbs were stroking along the nape of my neck, right under my ear where I hadn't realized was still sensitive to her touch due to my bearing the curse. My skin was rippling with goose bumps but I let it push to the deepest corner of my mind.

I wasn't sure why—though, it may have crossed my mind with a pure kind of logic—but I wanted this… _this_ chaos in my life. This I'll-gut-you-for-leaving-me one minute, I-can't-keep-my-hands-off-of-you the next, look-before-you-leap-Seaweed-Brain kind of a relationship in which I never honestly paid heed to the last part, but always moved out of my own way to follow her to hell and back. I wanted this love-me, I'm-gonna-strangle-you, stay-away-he's-mine attitude to come from only her. I needed the way she could kiss the smallest corner of my mouth with the sweetest smile and still find room to bat her lashes across my cheekbones. I thrived off of her playing her fingers along the low patch of skin on my back lovingly—

Which brought me to the current game she was playing. I may have somehow ended up pressed flush on top of her, in the chastest way this could be possible, our lips still dancing across the other's skin. Yeah, four years was too long. And her fingers crawled along my spine slow and sweet to where it never really crossed my mind as anything too special. Not until she decided she knew just how to test her power over me. Her skin brushed across mine, the same slow and sweet way as before, but seemingly less innocent than it had been.

A tightening in my gut, my throat closing up, the lungs in my chest being squeezed to two lifeless, deflated, essential-to-living blobs. I couldn't really process much more than the feeling of her fingers pressed to the one place where everything about me had been centered, and I could feel her everywhere, a warmth spreading through me. My muscles tightened under her touch.

She went for another stroke across the skin under my T-shirt.

I shuddered into her neck, trying desperately to get some strength back in my limbs rather than steady myself against her. She pressed her lips to my neck, I could feel her grin, and she let her hand rest there, her thumb rubbing soft circles along my sensitive patch of skin.

"I really," she hesitated, like she wasn't sure it would be okay to give some hint that my Annabeth was still buried inside and waiting to resurface, and I figured that she knew I would only be leaving her again. But I forced myself into a nod, skin still chickened and heart still flapping wildly.

"I missed you, too," I promised.

Then it hit.

The nausea.

The cramp in my stomach, in a painful rather than enjoyable manner, had held a grip on me.

The feeling of my blood running cold, and then ceasing to exist altogether.

"Annabeth," I whispered, and it seemed to come out soft and endearing despite my futile efforts to place a foretelling undertone. I tried again, managing a slight edge to my words. "Annabeth…" I shuddered and pushed myself up to where I was simply straddling her, my hands fisted in the pillow under her head. She let herself up onto her elbows, brow furrowed, lips parted in the most demanding, quizzical style that fit her naturally.

"What's wrong?"

I bite my lip, feeling the growl crawling up my throat. "You need to go." I rolled off the edge of the mattress, slipped to the floor, landed with a _thud_, felt myself collapsing into limited control. My vision was hazy now, speckled and blurred like an old camera was taking slow snapshots.

I blinked once. She was suddenly in front of me.

Blinked again. The world had turned to its side, my vision distorted with the image of her legs moving towards the door.

_Blink._ Sudden dark.

Dang it all.

I was running now, not sure of my destination, but I was getting there at an incredible rate. My skin was burning and tingling, boiling and blistering then cooling remarkably. Hands traced in a dark blanket, chest encased by the shadows, soul-torn breathing. Dark. Night, maybe.

Somewhere logged in the banks of my mind was the fact that I was unwillingly chasing down the girl I had just been totally suckered by.

**A/N: **_**Very**_** short. Really sorry but it felt best I leave it there seeing as my mind was shutting down and my stopping place seemed the most appropriate. Sorry again.**


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